


I Hear Your Name in Every Love Song

by WatercolourSkies



Category: A Very Potter Musical Series - Team StarKid
Genre: (slaps roof of this fic) this bad boy can hold so much self projection, 100 Ways to Say I Love You Writing Challenge, Domestic Fluff, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, basically fluff and them being in love with the occasional sprinkling of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26344423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WatercolourSkies/pseuds/WatercolourSkies
Summary: There are many more ways to tell someone you love them than you might think. When you have someone in your heart (sometimes quite literally), every small gesture, every compliment, sometimes saying nothing at all; these can all be ways to express your love to them. In fact, there are countless ways to say "I love you." Here is a tiny fraction of them.orIn which Quirrelmort owns my heart and here I give them the domestic bliss they deserve, along with a little bit of angst and a range of other tropes!
Relationships: Quirinus Quirrell/Tom Riddle, Quirinus Quirrell/Voldemort
Comments: 10
Kudos: 28





	1. 1. Keep You Safe

**Author's Note:**

> This is the start of my collection of Quirrelmort ficlets. I started writing these quite a while ago, and I'm finally getting around to publishing them. I have no specific update schedule, but at the moment I'll be updating around once a week, but this may change if I run out of chapters to publish and I need to write more. I will keep you updated as to what to expect!  
> These fics are not set in chronological order, and some are set in AUs. With the ones that are set in canon, I do have an idea of a timeline, but hopefully it will be at least somewhat clear when things are happening if it's important to know.  
> Before you start reading, I really hope you enjoy this fic and are having a lovely day.  
> (Here is the list of prompts I am using: https://p0ck3tf0x.tumblr.com/post/98502010026/one-hundred-ways-to-say-i-love-you )

**_“Pull over. Let me drive for a while.”_ **

It had been a long day. 

Quirrell had spent practically the whole day at the school he taught at due to a staff meeting and a bunch of reports he insisted he had to finish writing that day and that, no, he couldn’t take them home and leave it until tomorrow as Voldemort proposed. He'd said that this was the last day he could write them without it being an inconvenience, as the reports couldn't all be put together until every teacher had submitted their grades and comments. On top of all that, he’d been having trouble sleeping lately; due to the stress of marking the reports, and other things. This time Voldemort knew better than to suggest he give them all B minuses. 

So, with all of the stress put upon him, it was no wonder to Voldemort that his partner was exhausted. Still, while Voldemort knew that it was in no way Quirrell’s fault, it wasn’t ideal having someone a prolonged blink away from falling asleep driving you home.

“Hey,” Voldemort said, and he could have sworn that hearing his voice was the only thing stopping Quirrell from slumping forward onto the steering wheel. He gave a small hum in response. **_“Pull over. Let me drive for a while.”_ **

Quirrell looked over at Voldemort, and at this angle Voldemort could see the dark shadows falling under his eyes. Quirrell looked like he might protest, but luckily he seemed to realise for himself that he was really in no state to be operating heavy machinery. “Okay,” he murmured, and passively drove to the side of the road, parked, and allowed Voldemort to switch seats with him.

 _Okay, so this one’s the brake, and this one’s the accelerator, and I start the car by…_ Voldemort’s thoughts were interrupted by Quirrell’s quiet realisation: “Wait, you don’t have a driving license.”

Voldemort frowned. He had hoped that wouldn’t be an issue. Then he saw Quirrell’s face, how he was barely managing to stay even half-awake, and any irritation evaporated from his own face. “I know, but I think I’m still in a better condition to be driving than you right now, Squirrel.” The affectionate nickname made the corners of Quirrell’s mouth turn up. “And I promise you, driving license or not, I _will_ get us home safe, okay?”

“Okay, thank you.” Quirrell’s voice was barely audible, and Voldemort strongly suspected he'd fallen asleep the moment they’d left his lips.

Maybe it was just as well, for if his partner had stayed awake a moment longer, Voldemort wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stop himself from saying something really cheesy.

Still, surely it didn’t count if he just thought the cheesy thing to himself, right?

As he began driving, the words echoed in his head: _Surely promising to love and protect you every day of my life is more of an assurance that I’ll keep you safe than some licence? Licences can be forged and expire, but my love for you will live forever._


	2. 2. A Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like love, gifts come in many forms - as items, gestures, kind words... And all fuelled by kindness and a small smile as the recepient comes to mind.

**_“It reminded me of you.”_ **

“Hey, um, I got something for you.”

Quirrell looked up from the book he was reading - _Sense and Sensibility_ , an old favourite - to see Voldemort standing before him, his hands behind his back and looking more nervous than Quirrell had seen him for a long time. 

“What is it?” he asked, carefully marking his place and setting his book down. 

“Well,” Voldemort began, not moving his hands in a way that made it obvious he was holding something, "today while you were at work, I found this shop that I don't think either of us have seen before. A bookshop. I thought, _Why not? I have some time to kill,_ and went in and, well, basically, I got you this." His hands came into view, and with them came a beautiful hardback book. It was encased in brown cloth which was decorated with golden swirls and flowers of many different colours. A golden piece of ribbon hung out from between the pages, but the decoration that Quirrell couldn’t tear his eyes away from was a picture of a bird, stitched into the fabric: its spread, pointed wings and splashes of blue and red amongst the bird’s more neutral colours leading Quirrell to strongly suspect it was a swallow.

He took the book from Voldemort with shaking hands, not sure if he was even capable of professing how much he loved the gift. He opened it to see lined pages, empty save for the inked flowers that surrounded the pages, serving as a border. As he’d guessed from the lack of a title, it was a notebook.

While Quirrell was still at a loss for words, Voldemort spoke instead, “I hope you like it. You were talking recently about how you might start writing a novel at some point, and I just thought you should have a nice notebook to write it in, instead of the plain ones we use for shopping lists and stuff like that.” Quirrell looked up at him just in time to see his partner looking away, his expression looking something like… regret? “Uh, but only if you want to! It’s okay if you don’t like it-”

“Voldemort,” Quirrell stopped him. Normally, he was the one spiralling over mundane things, so he hoped he would be able to handle the situation as well as Voldemort did for him. “I love it.” He continued flipping through the pages, noting how the flowers on each page were different. He saw roses, daffodils, foxgloves… “This is honestly one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen, and it’s so lovely how you thought of me and remembered what I’d said. Thank you so much for buying this for me.”

Voldemort looked back to him then, and he was smiling, looking comforted. Quirrell gave himself a mental pat on the back. “You’re welcome, but it’s really not a big deal. _**It really just reminded me of you,** _so what was I supposed to do but buy it?”

“The notebook reminded me of you?”

“Yeah. Well, actually… I mean, it did, but also the whole shop just made me think of you." Quirrell gave him a curious look. “Just… calm and gentle… And I know it's just a building, but it somehow felt reserved yet passionate about certain things… like you.”

“Since when are you so poetic about this sort of thing?”

“I'm not really.” Voldemort lent down to Quirrell's eye level. “Just a bit obsessed with you.” He kissed him quickly, and Quirrell felt his cheeks turning pink as a smile bloomed across his face.

“Well, it sounds like a lovely place. You'll have to take me there soon.”

For some reason, Voldemort seemed to hold back a laugh at that. “Oh, definitely. It would be a bit weird if you never saw the place where I might be working soon.”

Quirrell looked at him in surprise. “Wait, did you…?”

Voldemort nodded. “Yeah, I saw a poster saying they were looking for applicants, and I just thought, ‘Why not?’”

“I thought you didn't like reading?” Quirrell asked. 

Voldemort shrugged. “But you do,” he said simply. “And I like you.”

Quirrell shook his head in wonder. Voldemort had given him two wonderful gifts that day, three if counted the wonderful, fluttery feeling he had instilled in his chest. Although, maybe it was foolish to try and count them, considering that every day with the man he loved was a gift in Quirrell’s eyes.


	3. 4. Nerves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting a job seemed like a good next step to take in their new, ordinary life together, but that doesn't easy Quirrell's nerves when the day of the job interview arrives. Fortunately, he does have a partner who will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Hello! I know I haven't updated this in ages! I had some intention of publishing the chapters in the order the prompts are, but I got completely stuck on the last line for the third one, so here's the fourth one instead. For now, I'll just be publishing the ones I finished months ago, but hopefully it won't be long until I can start filling in the gaps between them.

**_“Come here. Let me fix it.”_ **

Something that Voldemort had discovered and that had become something he now quite regularly used since moving to a Muggle town with Quirrell was the internet. He had to admit, it was pretty impressive. You could search anything up, ask any question, and find exactly what you were looking for. Of course, there were exceptions. For example, Voldemort doubted he’d be able to find a solution to his current dilemma: how can you help your partner stop feeling nervous when you’re worried that letting him know that you know he’s nervous will only make him feel worse? (probably delete?)

From Quirrell’s appearance alone, it was easy to tell how distressed he was. He was biting his lip, although trying to hide it, he had hairs sticking up all over the place, and the bags under his eyes were making Voldemort tired! The most prominent sign, however, the first thing Voldemort had noticed when Quirrell had walked into the kitchen for breakfast, was his tie. He had to wonder if Quirrell had even been paying attention while tying it, it was such a mess. Of course, that would be in no way helpful to point out, but he couldn’t help but think it.

“Hey, Squirrel,” Voldemort said tentatively. They had already said their good mornings upon waking up, but Quirrell had taken longer getting ready to go out in about an hour’s time, so it had been a little while since they’d spoken to each other.

As he sat down at the table with a plate of toast, Quirrell barely responded, just made a small ‘mm’ sound and gave Voldemort the faintest of smiles to indicate that he’d heard him.

“So, you have that job interview today,” Voldemort continued, although Quirrell clearly didn’t need reminding.

At last, his partner broke his silence. “I do. I really hope it goes well. Everything I’ve heard about this school makes it sound like my dream job and, well, I’m just worried that I’m not qualified to work there.”

“Squirrel, you were a professor at Hogwarts for years, and you have all the proper training,” Voldemort reasoned.

“I know, but what if the children don’t like me? What if the headteacher doesn’t like me, so I never even get to meet the students? What if I mess up in the interview and forget everything I know, or realise that I didn’t know enough to begin with? I don’t even know how to tie a tie, apparently!” He gestured at the offending object before yanking it loose in anguish.

As he spoke, Quirrell's voice became more and more littered with stutters, and he was very clearly panicking. Gently, Voldemort took his hand, slowly tracing his thumb over Quirrell’s knuckles in a way he knew helped ground him.

He knew what he had to do now: talk to him, and listen to whatever else he had to say, now and forever.

“I could tell you that I know that this interview is going to go much better than you think, that everyone will love you, but I’m not sure if you’ll believe me right now. So instead, I’m going to list some things about you that I know to be true. But first, if your tie’s stressing you out at all, _**come here, let me fix it.**_ ”

By ‘come here’, he meant ‘let me come over to you,’ but that didn’t really matter. As he stood before Quirrell, taking his tie in his hands and tying it in a way that made him look far more presentable, he said, "First, you are a truly brave person. In the time that I’ve known you, you have been through so much and always come out the other side even stronger. 

“Second, you are smart. I know we both know that, and trust me when I say that your intelligence is something you never need to doubt. You have won several awards, after all!” Quirrell managed a smile at that, a ‘you remembered’ sort of smile. "And I bet you were sometimes nervous before achieving the things that led to you receiving those awards, as it's completely reasonable to do, but you can remember how well they turned out.

“Finally, you are a wonderful, amazing person. I am seriously blown away with just how wonderful you are and how lucky I am to have you in my life. Not only do you deserve any job you could ever want, but they would be lucky to have an employee as kind, talented and all around brilliant as you.”

“Voldemort…” For a moment, Quirrell was speechless. He looked at Voldemort with smiling eyes and he bit his lip again, although this time it didn't seem to be due to nerves.

After a few seconds of silence, Voldemort said redundantly, “Anyway, your tie’s done.”

“Oh, thank you,” Quirrell looked down at it, but quickly looked back up, appearing to have found his tongue. “And thank you for saying all of that. That was… really lovely.”

“You’re welcome, but I didn't just say it to be nice, or to help you feel less stressed out. I said it because it’s all true.”

Quirrell nodded, looking thoughtful. “Well, either way, thank you. And it did help; I feel much calmer now.” He paused for a second, collecting his thoughts. “I feel like if you believe in me that much, maybe I can do this after all.”

Voldemort smiled. Whether or not Quirrell could instantly take all of his words to heart (though obviously he meant all of them from the bottom of  _ his  _ heart), what mattered most right now was that what he’d said had encouraged him. “I’m so glad. If you have more to say, or if there’s anything else you want to tell me about, I’m always ready to listen. Really, though, I’m sure you will ace this interview, because whatever happens, you’ll be yourself, and yourself is the best person I know.”

“Thank you,” Quirrell said again, looking so much happier than he had at the start of the conversation. He glanced at the clock. “I’ve still got a while before I need to go, so I'll make sure to tell you if there's anything else that comes to mind. Wish me luck for when I go?”

Voldemort grinned. “I can if you want me to, but I really don't think you need it.”

“Oh,” Quirrell replied, and for a moment Voldemort was worried he'd said the wrong thing, but then Quirrell gave him this mischievous smile and continued, “So does that mean a good luck kiss is off the table?”

Not missing a beat, Voldemort replied, “Well, perhaps I can make an exception.” He lent in and pressed his lips to Quirrell’s. The kiss was slow and sweet and one that Voldemort could get lost in until they came apart, both their faces slightly flushed and beaming.

And neither of them stopped smiling. Not as Voldemort made his way back to his seat, not when he commented on Quirrell's toast getting cold, not when Quirrell left for the long-awaited interview, and most certainly not when he came home and shared how well it had gone, and how whenever he felt nervous he would remember Voldemort’s words and feel comforted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this! Like I said, I should publish another chapter soon, as I have some prewritten. I recently rewatched AVPM and my love for this ship has been refilled! I doubt I'll ever form a proper schedule to update this book, but I'll try and update regularly for at least a few more chapter. I'm also currently writing another Quirrellmort fic unrelated to this book, so hopefully I'll publish that in a few days or so. Anyway, have a wonderful day!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first fic. This is one of the shorter ones I've written, but none of them are going to be extremely long.  
> Again, I hope you enjoyed reading this, and if you did, please consider leaving kudos and a comment. I really appreciate it. You might also benefit from subscribing to this story, or to my account if I have other fics that interest you.  
> Thank you for reading! <3


End file.
